


A Man on his Own Terms

by pinemist



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Artistic Liberties, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Hair-pulling, Loud Sex, M/M, Power Play, Season/Series 01, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinemist/pseuds/pinemist
Summary: Floki is intriguing - in more ways than one.
Relationships: Floki/Ragnar Lothbrok
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	A Man on his Own Terms

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started watching "Vikings" for the first time. I binged season one through four over the course of last week and was absolutely fascinated by Floki. The artistic liberties in question are those regarding Viking attitudes towards sexuality - from what we know, Vikings generally regarded a man bottoming for another man as deeply unmanly and shameful. There's no record of their attitudes to trans people. And if you're wondering how trans!Floki managed to access anything that would make him grow body hair, deepen his voice and remove his breasts...a wizard did it. This is set sometime before or in the early part of season one.

Ragnar has seen many strange things in his life—indeed, too many to count. Floki is just one of them. He fascinates Ragnar. But for all the strange things Ragnar knows or suspects about Floki, he never would have imagined that this would be one of them.

In some ways, considering everything else about Floki, the fact he has a cunt is one of the more mundane aspects to the man. And yet when he first sees it, Ragnar feels oddly frozen, unsure of how to react. He’s never seen a man with a cunt before.

“Are you going to do anything?” Floki asks impatiently, arms folded and an eyebrow cocked. “Or are you just going to stand there and look at it all day? You’d think you’d never seen one before.”

He’s right. And even if Ragnar wouldn’t call Floki handsome, he’s…intriguing. Intriguing in a way most other Norsemen aren’t, no matter how handsome and powerful and rugged they might be, or how thick their cocks or how tight their arses are. Floki is a man on his own terms.

In a way, Ragnar almost admires him for it.

The noise that Floki makes when Ragnar’s cock presses into his wet cunt is extraordinary—unlike any woman Ragnar’s ever fucked. It’s a deep groan, mixed with a low laugh, and it makes Ragnar feel something he can’t quite identify. Floki smells of the forest, of earth and petrichor, and it’s strangely intoxicating. He buries his face in Floki’s neck and breathes deep. The position they’re in is awkward, a little uncomfortable, but Ragnar’s more than happy to ignore it so long as his cock is buried inside Floki. Floki moans and hisses and giggles and writhes underneath him, thrusting up to meet him, occasionally biting at Ragnar’s jaw or earlobe. It isn’t like it is with other men—least of all because Floki has a cunt. Ragnar’s used to a little more submission, out of respect if nothing else, but Floki isn’t going to submit. Not to Ragnar, anyway. His hands seem to be everywhere, in Ragnar’s hair and on his back and face and hips and ass. His breath is hot and wet against Ragnar’s neck. Ragnar’s thighs tense as he feels his climax building, his balls aching for release—

“Stop.”

The word is like a slap in the face, but Ragnar does stop, baffled. Floki pants, running a hand down Ragnar’s face. “I want you to use your mouth.”

Ragnar wants to be angry about the interruption, but he’s half-mad with lust. He pulls away and all but collapses to his knees, parting Floki’s long legs further and delving in like a starving man. He licks greedily. The taste is thick and salty, like the sea. Floki moans and giggles delightedly and wraps his legs around Ragnar’s neck. His fingers are in Ragnar’s hair.

“Put your tongue in,” Floki pants. “Fuck me with it.”

Ragnar presses his tongue into Floki’s cunt and relishes the noise he receives in return. He can feel Floki’s legs trembling. He licks Floki out with hungry swipes of his tongue, occasionally pulling away for air, his head swimming and his groin unbearably tight with lust. He feels like a rutting animal.

It doesn’t take long. Floki lets out a high-pitched noise, not quite a scream, and yanks so hard on Ragnar’s hair he nearly breaks his neck, and Ragnar feels him pulsing warm and thick and wet on his tongue. He sits back on his haunches, panting like a dog and staring up at Floki. His cock juts out, hard and flushed and aching for release, and Ragnar is about to wrap a hand around it when he feels hands under his arms, hauling him to his feet, and then pressing him into the wall. A flurry of fur and leather and now Floki is on his knees with Ragnar’s cock in his mouth. He’s loud and unrefined and filthy about it, and it’s unbearably arousing. Ragnar only has time to let out a stuttering groan before he’s coming in Floki’s mouth, knees quivering. Floki swallows and then pulls back. He leans against Ragnar’s thigh and looks up at him, mouth ajar slightly, like an affectionate pet. Ragnar finds himself running a hand over Floki’s head and smiling, just a little.


End file.
